Jacktastic
by JaAm
Summary: Ratchet was having a bad day. Wheeljack was having some fun. You put two and two together. "Wheeljack, what are you doing, and where is the rest of your body?"


"You slagging malfunction! I told you not to, I've told you again and again, and I know I will have to tell you again later, but it just won't sink into your thick processor! You never, ever, under any circumstances, take on a fragging GESTALT on your own! NEVER! What were you even thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe if I could take Devastator down I might get a raise." Sideswipe offered cheekily, pausing in his efforts to figure out which way his arm was supposed to reattach to his frame.

"We don't get paid! Especially not YOU!" Ratchet accentuated the last word with the loud clang of a certain wrench hitting the back of the helm of a certain front liner.

"Aww, love you too!" Sideswipe crooned as he held his servo over his helm to block the now raving Ratchet's attacks. The medical bay was filled with the sounds of yet another patient facing his wrath.

* * *

><p>It had already been a hard enough day without Sideswipe's stupidity. The battle with the Decepticons had not been easy, many bots taking injuries, though there were no casualties. There usually weren't, and for that Ratchet was grateful, but that only meant he had even more work to do when they got back home. Hours of repair work had grated on Ratchet's systems until finally Sideswipe had been brought in. That had been the straw to break the proverbial camel's back. The Lamborghini looked like he had been run through a trash compactor three times over. Ratchet had taken one glance at Sideswpie when he exploded in a fit of rage, threatening the front liner to get out of his med bay or so help him Primus he would 'dismantle him piece by excruciating piece'. Now that the bane of his existence was fully repaired, Ratchet trudged tiredly to the the rec-room to get a cube of energon to bring his slowly dying energy back up. Snatching his cube from the dispenser, the CMO turned around to stalk back out. The room was filled with bots discussing the day's attack like some kind of party. Ratchet could only wonder why these mechs didn't realize that it was their lives on the line out there, that one wrong move and he might not be able to bring them back from the brink of deactivation. He fumed all the way down the hallway back to Wheeljack's lab, hoping the mechanical engineer could offer him some semblance of sanity (a sure sign of his deteriorating mental state, going to Wheeljack for sanity) when he found something that almost made him spin on his heel and head in the other direction. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a human habit that had rubbed off on him, and debated whether or not to get involved. Figuring that he wouldn't be able to recharge that night if he didn't know how the strange sight before him had happened, he decided to open the can of worms.<p>

"Wheeljack?" His voice came out strangely calm.

"Uh, yes Ratchet?"

"What are you doing, and where is the rest of your body?"

Ratchet placed his servos on his hips and stared down at the mechanic, or at least the half of him that he could see. Only Wheeljack's upper half could be seen, and it was jutting out of the wall as though he had been thrown through it.

"Well, uh, funny story Ratch. You see, during the Decepticon's attack on that oil rig today, I was tasked with keeping Skywarp away, and as I watched him I couldn't help but-"

"Stop. Just, stop. Do you mean to tell me that you were working with teleportation without any kind of supervision?"

"You were busy, and Perceptor is offline at the moment because of that helm injury Dirge gave him, and Beachcomber isn't even here, and Skyfire-"

"You talk more than Blurr when you're nervous. Your legs are on the other side of the wall, correct?"

"I think so. I can't exactly see them. Teleporting is quite complex."

Ratchet vented before walking to the entrance of the lab and cautiously peering around the corner. Yes, there was Wheeljack's backside, just barely making it outside of the wall. His legs were dangling just above the floor, and his arms were right up against his legs, hands flexing with nervousness. Ratchet shook his helm before turning back to his colleague.

"Yeah, they're back in the lab. Now why don't you just teleport again and get out of there?" Ratchet questioned.

"I had the teleportation device affixed to my waist, and seeing how that is now inside the wall... yeah, I think I'm stuck."

"Well I think you're also slagged."

"Wait, you're not gonna help me out of this? Ratch, I need your help here! I can't just stick out of a wall like this! It's...it's... embarrassing." Wheeljack whispered the last word.

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you started messing around! There's a reason only Skywarp can teleport. Good luck, ya glitch." And with that Ratchet doubled back to head for his berth, a frantic Wheeljack pleading for help behind him.

* * *

><p>Jazz sauntered jauntily down the hallway towards his destination. There was no reason why he was happy, he just was. That was usually how it worked, and no one questioned it. He shifted the engine block in his servo under his arm to wave at Gears as he trudged by. The red and blue minibot snorted at him, but Jazz just smiled and kept on. He was almost to the lab when something caught his optic. There was a big white block jutting out of the wall of Wheeljack's lab. Jazz sped up, then stopped in his tracks when he realized what it was.<p>

"Wheeljack, Primus ain't good to ya, is he man?"

Wheeljack looked up from the floor and smiled at the saboteur, though it seemed a little forced.

"Not really. Life could be easier."

"How'd you get yourself into this one?" Jazz tilted his helm to the side to get a better angle in the engineer's position. Wheeljack explained the cause for his current situation as Jazz listened without interrupting like Ratchet had. Jazz kept his cool for a minute, considering his friend's plight.

"How long have ya been hangin' here"?

"Well, there are exactly 210 ceiling tiles and floor tiles, 52 large wall tiles, and 32 lights from this end of the hallway to the next, if that answers your question at all."

A grin began to form on Jazz's face, quickly spreading until he bent over with laughter. Wheeljack laughed nervously.

"So, ya think you can help me out of this Jazz?"

"Demolition ain't my area of expertise 'Jack. I'll see if Ratchet can-"

"No, not Ratchet! Get Hoist or-or Grapple!"

"Has Ratchet seen ya yet 'Jack?"

"Umm... yeah," Wheeljack hung his head.

"A'ight, I'll see what I can do. Have fun countin' the tiles!" Jazz patted Wheeljack on the head and continued walking down the hallway.

"Thanks Jazz, I owe you one!" Wheeljack called after him.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack checked his chronometer for what felt like the hundredth time since Jazz had left. 9:00 P.M. It had been an hour. He sighed. It seemed as though no help was coming for him today. He wriggled in his airtight prison in the wall, kicking his legs behind him. Both of his arms had gone numb, and his servos were starting to lose feeling too. Wheeljack was about to resort to calling for help on his comm link when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He smiled, but the grin faltered when he realized that it was not Jazz coming with the promised help, but Bluestreak. The gunner was walking at an easy pace, but quickened when he saw Wheeljack. The engineer braced himself.<p>

"Wheeljack? What happened to you? Are you stuck there? How long have you been here? Why haven't you called for help? I'm sure anyone would have come to aid you if you would have just asked." Bluestreak began to search frantically around Wheeljack for a way to pull him out, but obviously found nothing.

"I did ask for help, Blue. Jazz was supposed to come get me a long time ago. Have you seen him?"

"Well, yeah. He's in the Rec Room, talking about some bot or another who's stuck. Oh! You! He's talking about you in the Rec Room!"

Now Wheeljack was confused. Why was Jazz leaving him here?

"Hey Blue, would you mind going to Grapple or Hoist and getting them for me?"

"Of course Wheeljack, I'll go get them for you. They'll have you out of there in no time! Grapple may not want to, but I'm sure I can convince Hoist to convince him to..." Bluestreak's voice faded as he walked down the corridor. Wheeljack sighed. He liked the gunner all right, he just needed a filter somewhere between his processor and his vocalizer.

* * *

><p>Hoist's and Grapple's lab was not far from Wheeljack's position, so it didn't take long to get there. Entering the code for admission, Bluestreak tentatively poked his head into the scientists' shared laboratory. Grapple was holding an electric screwdriver over a complicated looking design when Bluestreak called out to him.<p>

"Hey Grapple!"

"GAH!" Grapple's startled cry sounded as the screwdriver fell from his servo and fell to the floor, still on. He jumped back to avoid the machine, quickly scooping it up and flipping the off switch.

"Bluestreak, what are you doing? I'm working on a very delicate structure here, and I cannot afford to make mistakes! Do you have any idea-"

"Easy, Grapple," Hoist cut into his partner's rant. "The child didn't mean any harm. No damage occurred, let him be."

"I'm really sorry Grapple, I didn't know. I just really needed to talk to you both because Wheeljack is in the wall of his lab and I don't know how he got there but he needs your help!"

Hoist sighed and pulled a chair up. He sat down and spread his servos apart. "We know about Wheeljack, Bluestreak. Jazz already came and told us"

"What? Then why haven't you gotten him out yet?" Bluestreak asked, confusion tinting his tone.

"Ratchet's orders," Grapple said over his shoulder, having gone back to working on his project. "He seems to think that this will teach Wheeljack not to work without supervision ever again. I doubt it will work."

_You believe everything that you didn't create from scratch by yourself won't work, _Hoist thought. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he turned back to the youngling. "You see, we would love to help-" Grapple snorted "-but we just aren't permitted too."

"I see," Bluestreak confided. "I'll just go tell Wheeljack."

"Tell him we're terribly sorry, won't you?" Hoist asked of the gunner.

"Of course Hoist," Bluestreak trudged out of the lab, not quite sure what to tell Wheeljack.

* * *

><p>"So I'm not getting out of here, am I?"<p>

"Not until Ratchet isn't mad anymore, I guess. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be out of his mood soon."

Wheeljack thanked him for his help and the youngling said an interminable apology, turning to head back to the Rec Room. Wheeljack wondered what it would take to bribe someone into talking Ratchet out of his anger. Probably a lot more than what he had.

* * *

><p>It was now about two o'clock in the morning. Wheeljack had managed to go into recharge after hours of twisting his torso around slightly, what with his limited mobility. He was not comfortable, but at least he was sleeping.<p>

_Drip_

_Drip Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip Drip._

Wheeljack, disturbed from his slumber by the noise, twisted his neck to try and find the source of the annoyance. It had began to rain, but the soft pattering on the roof was not the same as the dripping noise. Finally Wheeljack found it. A few feet away from him down the hall in the ceiling was a small gap. The hole was not big enough for Laserbeak to get into or Red Alert would've detected it much sooner, but it was enough to let in a few drops of rain at a time. Water droplets sliding down the tilted form of the Autobot ship were also falling inside, and already a small puddle had begun to form.

_Drip Drip Drip_

It was not raining heavily, thank Primus, but just enough to annoy anyone, human or Autobot. Wheeljack shook his helm and attempted to go back into recharge.

_Drip Drip Drip Drip Drip_

Now it was raining harder, and the puddle was increasing. Granted, it would take a few hours before there was any real harm to anyone, but the noise was making Wheeljack twitch. Each tiny drop of water that hit the floor was like the clang of a screw coming into contact with a scrap of metal. Each drop that hit made Wheeljack shutter his optics and twitch his headfins. In the silence of the hallway, the sounds echoed with nothing to do but bounce off the walls. Wheeljack stared helplessly at the tiny gap in the ceiling, wishing terribly that he could extend his welder from his wrist and seal up the blasted thing. He wriggled again.

_Drip Drip Drip_

It was driving him crazy! And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Well, nothing _he _could do.

::Wheeljack to First Aid.::

First Aid sat ram-rod straight up in his berth, surprised by the message. He slouched back down and held his finger to his helm.

"This is First Aid, go ahead Wheeljack." First Aid tried not to sound angry at his superior, but his tiredness probably seeped through.

::Heh heh, sorry to wake ya kid, but you see I've got this problem...::

"I already know you're stuck in a wall sir, everyone does." First Aid rolled over onto his side.

::Everyone? Oh Primus... But that's not what I meant. There's a leak in the ceiling in the hallway where I am.::

"I mean no disrespect sir, but couldn't this have waited until the morning?"

::Probably not. Please come fix it!:: First Aid shook his helm. He could practically hear the desperation in Wheeljack's voice.

"On my way."

Wheeljack sat happily and watched as the young medic-in-training welded the gap closed. The red and white bot was happy he had his mask and visor at that moment so that Wheeljack could not see his sleepy expression. He wanted nothing more than to go back to recharge. He began to nod off but snapped out of it at Wheeljack's cry and caught the welder before it fell to the floor. Apparently it had slipped from his grasp. Adding the final touches to the seal, First Aid stepped down off the ladder, lazily saluted Wheeljack, and walked back to his quarters. He barely even heard Wheeljack call out his thanks.

* * *

><p>The next morning Wheeljack was very tired. He imagined that First Aid was too, and he felt guilty, but there wasn't much he could do about it in his current state. He decided he would give him an extra ration of energon whenever he got out of the wall. Speaking of energon, Wheeljack hadn't had any since becoming trapped. He heard footsteps yet again and turned to see who was approaching.<p>

Bumblebee rounded the corner, two energon cubes in hand. Wheeljack smiled at the scout.

"Hey 'Jack. I heard about, well, you know, and I brought you your ration."

"Thanks Bumblebee," Wheeljack sighed in gratitude. "I really-uh oh."

Bumblebee looked up at Wheeljack questionably. "Problem?"

Wheeljack wiggled.

"Oh. No hands. Right. Well here." Bumblebee stood on his toes and tilted the drink so Wheeljack could sip. Wheeljack retracted his mask, something he only did in the company of bots he knew he could trust. A few drops spilled down his chin, but he mostly got it. When Bumblebee pulled the cube away Wheeljack looked down at his pink-streaked chin and grimaced. Bumblebee laughed.

"I'll feed you, but I'm not wiping your chin." He giggled.

"Ugh. I feel like a sparkling." Wheeljack shook his helm and few of the drops flew off. "Close enough." He tried to shrug.

"Well, you're lucky on one account 'Jack." Bumblebee placed his servos in his hips.

"Oh really? What?"

"You get out of monitor duty. And cleanup shift. And patrol. And practically everything else." Good ol' Bumblebee, always looking on the bright side. Wheeljack decided not to mention that his pistons were starting to rust.

"Guess you're right. There are some upsides to this, aren't there?"

"There's always at least one. You just have to look for it." He shrugged.

Wheeljack figured that that was how the little scout survived in the war. Finding an upside was his challenge and his reward. Everyone had their own way.

"I have patrol with Spike in about an hour, so I'll come by tonight with your next ration if you want." Bumblebee offered.

"If you can, then yes. Please. Any company is great right now, I'm bored out of my processor. I'd even take Grimlock at this point." Wheeljack stated.

"I'll be sure to send him by. See ya Wheeljack!" Bumblebee laughed over his shoulder, walking away.

"No wait! I was just... Oi." He hoped Bumblebee knew he was kidding.

"So bored. Wish I had my toolkit. Or at least the use of my arms."

He wiggled again.

* * *

><p>Ratchet walked down the hallway where Wheeljack's lab was. As soon as he came into view Wheeljack started begging for forgiveness and mercy, or at least a movie. Ratchet pointedly ignored him in favor of strolling into the lab in silence. He placed a new wrench on the counter, this one being the replacement for the one he broke on Sideswipe's helm. He grabbed an adhesive and a few bolts before turning back to the door. Right next to the door, Wheeljack's legs were dangling out of the wall. Ratchet walked up the the back of the engineer and hit the back of one of his legs with the flat of the new wrench. Wheeljack muffled cry was heard from the other side of the wall. Ratchet exited the lab, still ignoring the heated protests and apologies coming from the trapped Autobot.<p>

One visit from Grimlock later, Ratchet apparently decided that Wheeljack had had enough. Grapple and Hoist used high power buzz saws to cut him out of the wall as about half of the _Ark_ looked on. Ratchet stood with his arms crossed throughout to whole procession, glaring at the engineer who tried to avoid his gaze. After a large hole was cut around him, Wheeljack stood up with the wall still around him like an over sized orange skirt. The bots viewing the scene bust into laughter as Wheeljack spun around, apparently trying to figure out how to get the thing off of himself. Hoist held Wheeljack steady as Grapple cut around his person, and Wheeljack cringed every time the blade got close. Eventually he was fully removed from the slab of metal and promptly fell on his aft. Not being able to move for almost a day and a half had worn on his systems, and he felt like he weighed as much as Omega Supreme. He removed the small teleporter from around his waist. It looked kind of like a belt with a large red button on the front and several small dials on the side for setting coordinates and such. Ratchet snatched the object from Wheeljack's grasp and subspaced it, probably to burn it later. Wheeljack's frame sagged, but he let it go. Teleportation was obviously not his strong point.

* * *

><p>A few days later there was a Decepticon attack on a research lab. Wheeljack and Jazz were guarding a group of humans were trying to escape the grounds of the facility when suddenly a certain black and purple jet appeared before them. Both Autobots lifted their weapons but then the jet was gone again. He reappeared a few meters back.<p>

"Hey Wheeljack!" He called. He vanished again before either bot could shoot.

"Jealous?" The Autobots whirled around to where Skywarp was standing behind them. Wheeljack fired, but the jet was gone once again.

"Warping takes a bit more skill than you Autobots are used to. Skill like mine!" Skywarp disappeared one last time. Wheeljack lowered his gun.

"He.. he knows about... how..."

Jazz placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Wheeljack, all'a planet Earth knows about it. There's a Youtube video, wanna watch?"

Wheeljack groaned.

* * *

><p>Ratchet walked into the lab again to grab some supplies for his latest patient, happy that half of Wheeljack was no longer protruding from the wall. He picked up some bolts and screws, checking them for size and durability. He looked up from his work when he got that sensation that he was being watched. Ratchet glanced around, but no one was there. Hesitantly he got back to work. He stood up to go locate some scrap metal when he ran into a hand.<p>

Ratchet yelled and jumped back. He stared at the servo just dangling there. His gaze traveled up the arm it was attached to. The shoulder the arm was attached to. And the engineer hanging upside-down with his feet no where to be seen, probably jutting out of the ground of the next floor. A low, menacing growl escaped Ratchet.

"Hey Ratch, I dropped the teleporter. Could you maybe please hand it up here?"

* * *

><p>AN Poor Wheeljack. And Ratchet. Who has the short end of the stick here?

Hope you liked it! Please R&R! It has been scientifically proven by Perceptor that reviews help build self-esteem!


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